


A Hot Tangle

by doctor_bitchcraftt



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Friendship/Love, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Sharing a Bed, trixya - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_bitchcraftt/pseuds/doctor_bitchcraftt
Summary: "She and I conjoined our bodies in a hot tangle of...friendship."A story about *that night* in Boston in 2016 when Katya tried to make a move on Trixie.  Contains a mature conversation about relationships, silliness typical of their friendship, a cameo by Bianca Del Rio, and Miss Courtney Act on a couch, like, four feet away.





	1. UNHhhh

**Author's Note:**

> This plot has been slowly growing in the back of my mind, based on Katya's Periscope and both her and Trixie's retelling of the events. I've attempted to make this as non-AU as possible, accounting for the fact that this is still RPF. Pronouns shift depending on persona (Katya thinks of herself as a woman, Trixie is usually 'she' except in particular instances).
> 
> Multiple chapters incoming.

_Before That Night(TM)_

The thing is, Katya knows her friendship with Trixie is one of the strongest relationships in her (admittedly chaotic) life. 

Trixie is a steady presence, understanding beyond reason and supportive, all wrapped in a bubblegum pink exterior and hidden behind a veil of dark humor.  They're not always in the same city (or state, let alone the same continent), but it seems like they pick up right where they've left off after prolonged physical separation.  Katya FaceTimes Trixie when she's seven time zones away without wondering if she'll pick up on the other end because Brenda is being relentless and she can't sleep.  Trixie sends her video messages of song ideas, viewpoint askew where her iPhone is propped up against a pile of drag and lips stained pink after a show, fingers moving easily over the strings.

Katya doesn't need the fans to point out that she and Trixie are always in each other's personal space.  Trixie Mattel isn't a hugger, and neither is Brian Firkus (especially not Brian) - but somehow that doesn't matter when Katya is stroking the index finger punctuating Trixie's latest interruption, or squeezing her knee in a fit of laughter.  They lounge together in their boy underwear after a show, share face powder, and loan each other lube.  Ok, Trixie loans Katya lube, which she never returns, but who's counting anyway?

The thing is, Katya never thought about trying to get Trixie into her bed on all the nights they shared hotel rooms because one of them was too tired to walk down the hall.  She never caught herself staring a bit too long when all the padding came off and Trixie's thick thighs were draped over the back of a chair.   

Actually, that's a lie. Katya did consider trying to fuck Trixie within an hour of meeting her in the workroom, but the thought crosses her mind with everyone she meets.

Trixie is her best friend.  And sometimes when she's gripping Katya's fingers in hers, the whirlwind of thoughts in Katya's mind goes still for just a second and there's just Trixie's shriek of laughter filling her ears and Katya is grinning so hard her cheeks ache.

 


	2. There was a time when I was sexually attracted to Trixie Mattel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of That Night, as told through Katya's Periscope (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThXwcH3qZHQ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual dialogue taken from the aforementioned YouTube video. Watch it. Seriously.
> 
> ** used in place of an offensive word.

"You literally look like a male bodybuilder."  

The words are out of Katya's mouth and hanging in the air between them before she stops to think about how it might sound.  It's a rarity; normally thoughts go straight to words which come out of her mouth, completely bypassing any sort of processing or filter. 

(Trixie has, in moments of rare seriousness, told her that she shouldn't ever censor herself because she counts on Katya's honesty.  She certainly doesn't remember the minute details of Trix leaning in close to the camera on FaceTime one late night at precisely 1:43 am.  She can't recall setting down the blond wig she had previously been shaking like a cheerleader's pompoms to pull her own iPhone close.  She most definitely doesn't dwell on how Trixie's mouth turned down at the corners before curving gently upwards as she spoke.)  

The air inside her apartment is warm, verging on stuffy.  It's never bothered her before.

Courtney is behind her sprawled over her couch, chatting away on her own Periscope broadcast amidst the snakeskin and plaid cushions.  Katya turns the camera to her, automatically filling the silence with chatter about the color orange while her mind follows Trixie meandering around her apartment.  She's only half paying attention to the banter about health and supplements while Courtney rifles through her suitcase and shows off various bottles. 

(To be fair, her mouth on autopilot can carry on deep philosophical conversations without her brain being engaged.  When they're filming, Trixie usually has to remind her of what the topic originally was before her words wandered off down an obscure rabbit hole.)

Trixie is wearing a white tank top and snug grey boxer briefs and yet another nondescript baseball cap.  Why hasn't she noticed how tight they were before?

She refocuses on Courtney when the cushions sink under Trixie's weight as she settles on the other end, grabbing a bottle from Courtney and holding it up like a late-night infomercial.  Katya can't take her eyes off Trixie's newly defined arms, the gentle swell of pectoral muscles under the tank top.

"We're still reeling from the fact that Trixie Mattel has turned into a male bodybuilder." 

Apparently her brain is worse than a stuck record.  Why is it stuck?

Oblivious to Katya's internal dialogue (Katya knows better than to ever call it a monologue), Trixie makes a crack about Courtney's bottled highlights and Katya is distantly aware that Courtney is snuggled up to her shoulder.  Normally, she wouldn't think twice about leaning over to lick her friend's hair or start humping her leg for the sheer entertainment value.  Trixie wouldn't mind.

Why has it always mattered if her behavior bothered Trixie?

"Do you know what I just realized about you?" Katya cuts over Trixie making yet another steroid joke, "Trix - Tracy.  You're a man."

(Way to state the obvious, Barbara.)

Those lips aren't painted pink tonight; parted in mid-sentence, they open just a bit further and Katya wonders what would happen if she reached out and slipped her thumb just past her bottom lip.  "Yeah, I'm a man Maury, the jury's not out any more folks." 

Trixie is wearing her 'duhh' face and she suddenly has to stop her before another quip about her age comes out.  "No - the whole time - no, it's been in our face the whole time, but it wasn't yet developed on Drag Race.  You come out the most re*ar*ed explosion of so many pinks and so many textures and fabrics, and girly girl girly girly-"

Trixie tries to interrupt again but Katya isn't listening.  "- and during the day, you are the literal picture of like hunk - boy - man, giggle giggle, wanna - do you know what I mean?"

There's a crease forming between Trixie's brows, just above the bridge of her nose that smoothes out halfway through Katya's rant.  Something like understanding dawns in her eyes, even though Katya isn't even sure what she could possibly understand about the confused tangle of half-formed impulses running around her head. 

Katya's mouth keeps moving and words keep coming out, but she's not even bothering to listen to herself anymore. 

She finishes the Periscope and puts down her phone, intensely aware that she prefaced her invitation for her fellow queens to crash at her apartment with the explicit promise of them sharing her bed while she spends the night on the problem-pattern couch.  It seemed like a generous and logical solution, saved checking into a hotel, and most of all meant a late night of laughter together.  Except, suddenly Courtney's normally welcome presence feels like an intrusion.

Trixie is bent over her own suitcase now, digging through her clothes.  The muscles in her thighs flex and Katya wants to lick them. 

What the hell, Barbara?

Katya flees to the bathroom.

      

 


	3. Fuck my pussy with a rake, mom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bathrooms are not ideal spaces for major realizations. Or, Katya tries to act cool and that never goes well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me on this Katya-shaped rollercoaster.

Trixie and Courtney are bickering about the relative merits of dating versus hookups (if they were any more opposite on the spectrum, their viewpoints might meet like an ourobouros, the snake devouring its own tail in its own autofellat - nope, stop that thought right there), and their conversation has receded to a buzz in the background even as Katya is intensely aware of how Trixie is sitting cross-legged and scratching high up the inside of her own thigh.  They barely pause as Katya stumbles over her own feet in the direction of the bathroom.

"Oh work," Trixie calls after her, "and don't forget to use Febreeze this time!"

The door closes behind her and Katya fumbles the lock with shaking fingers, leaning back on the peeling paint and trying to reconcile the jolt of heat shooting down her spine at Trixie's voice.  "Get it together," she mutters, patting her pockets automatically before realizing that her cigarettes and lighter are on the end table next to the couch.  In the living room.  Probably under Trixie's elbow, and Trixie hates her smoking and always reads her for being a yoga practitioner polluting her body with filth, but there's never any malice under the complaints every time she needs a smoke break and Trixie always accepts her just as she is.

Something inside her chest squirms a little, and it's not just the beginnings of arousal that are stirring behind her hips.

The bathroom is barely large enough to cram sink, shower, and toilet into with room for the door to swing open, so she only has to turn and take half a step forward before leaning on the sink.  Somewhere along the way she's squeezed her eyes shut, and they're wide and panicked as she meets her own gaze in the mirror.  Her pupils are blown wide, and her fingertips are going pins and needles, and the room feels smaller by the moment.

She is not freaking out in her own bathroom while her best friend (and sudden object of lust, her brain unhelpfully supplies) is less than eight feet away.

That's a lie. 

Katya locks eyes with her reflection and forces a long, slow inhalation.  She does it again, a dozen times more until her chest no longer feels like one of Violet's corsets.  Slumping back, barely remembers to slap the toilet lid shut before her knees give out and she sits with a thud. 

Focus, Barbara. 

How did you get here?

Katya replays the day in her head, from meeting Trix at the airport and kissing her and Courtney hello (normal), dancing down the sidewalk like their personal runway (also horribly normal), and dropping the suitcases off in her shoebox of an apartment.  They'd all gone out vintage shopping - Courtney found three pairs of earrings and Katya a floral-and-plaid monstrosity of a dress (Trixie had shrieked in mock disgust when she emerged from the fitting room) - then had dinner.  All completely un-noteworthy.

After dinner, they went back to her apartment and Katya stepped outside for a cigarette because Trixie's nose always crinkles when she smokes next to her, and when she'd come back in they had both stripped  down because of the heat.  Katya was about to start Periscope (because why not?), already planning to make a threesome joke involving Trixie's fitness journey and Courtney the twink, when the fluorescent kitchen lighting on Trix's new tan stopped her in her tracks.

That's definitely new.  They've been closer than close almost since season seven wrapped, so what's changed? 

Katya is more than aware that she loves Trixie, and Trixie loves her.  It's the kind of deep love that is even more intimate than sex, and to be honest, Katya is excellent at separating what she does in the bedroom (or bathroom, or living room floor, or that one time-) from her feelings. 

Getting a stiffy from a hot guy usually means either directly presenting what she's thinking ("I'm extremely attracted to you and want to have sex with you") or going home to jerk off.

Getting a stiffy from her best-friend-slash-business-partner-slash-platonic-life-partner is, in a word, complicated.

So.  Katya can have it out now with her right hand (or left, because it's always a good idea to switch it up), or talk to Trixie like a mature adult, or actually have sex with Trixie.

Katya is not going to have sex with Trixie, so that leaves options one and two.  She's also aware that she's spent longer than normal in the bathroom, and the time it would take to get off would be noticeable.  

Katya is going to have a mature conversation with Trixie.  She's going to look into those earnest brown eyes, and not at the broad shoulders or big hands.  Definitely not the hands.

Katya is so going to have sex with Trixie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly how do Katya and Trixie end up in bed together? Stay tuned.


	4. Bzzzzzzzztt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya and Trixie are going to talk about this. Or, Katya, Trixie, a refrigerator, and one Aussie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to only be five chapters, but the plot expanded during a long plane ride. We’ll get to see more of Katya’s perspective of events between the Periscope broadcast and the next morning.

Trixie is idly combing one of Katya’s wigs, teasing up the curls with that oddly endearing squinty face, when she emerges from the bathroom.Courtney is draped across the entire expanse of couch, typing away on her phone.(Probably texting Adore and Bianca about the sexual tension in the room, which means that she’s not as oblivious as she seems.Katya wonders if the ABC of drag have ever had a threesome, but decides she doesn’t want to think about that because it isn’t helping the problem growing in her pants.)

Katya forces herself to walk past them both into the kitchen.  She pretends not to notice Trixie setting the wig down and looking up, opening the refrigerator and sticking her head in as an excuse to not interact.  She’s mentally rehearsing what to say to Trixie, if she could only get her alone.  

 _“I know you love me, and I love you.  And this is totally completely separate, because you’ve made me really horny and-“_ While completely true, that sounds like a setup for a joke.

_“Trix, your ass makes me hard and I’d like to have sex with you.But I wanted to discuss it with you first, because you’re the most important person in my life and if I screw this up-“_

“Katya?” Trixie’s voice is far too close, and she straightens abruptly, smacking the back of her head on the top of the fridge.Holy fuck, that hurt.  Trixie is reaching out to catch her wrist and close the door, and Katya’s mind goes blank.“Are you ok?”

“Fine, Tracy.  Totally fine.  Absolutely okay-“ She snaps her mouth shut because Trixie is leaning closer, forcing her to make eye contact. 

“Are you ok?” she repeats, and in the space of a moment it’s not Trixie her sister - still present even when makeup-less and in her boy body - staring into her eyes.  

Katya knows what Brian is thinking, that maybe Katya was in the bathroom getting high, and she simultaneously hates herself for making him wonder and loves him for worrying.  A few months ago that might have been the case, but she’s trying so hard to stay clean, way more than a little for him.

She’s standing in the kitchen less than six inches from the man she wants to fuck who also happens to be one of the anchoring points in her life.  Right now she should laugh it off, make a joke about hitting the cracks in her tile.  Should bundle Trix and Courtney in bed and go jerk off in the bathroom.  Except when she opens her mouth, what comes out is, “Can we talk?”

“Is something wrong?  What do you need?“

Katya is already shaking her head, aware that his grip had moved down from her wrist to clasp their hands tightly together.  Sure, they hold hands a lot (on set, with an audience.  There’s no audience here if they duck under the counter), but one of them is usually wearing gloves while filming, and the skin to skin contact between their palms feels like fire.

There’s something else in the electric touch of his fingertips that is setting off zings of energy.  Chris and Ron add in buzzing effects whenever she touches Trixie on camera, but this is definitely reality.  What can’t she figure out?

“It’s nothing bad, Tallulah.”A quick squeeze of fingers, reassuring in its own way.Katya doesn’t know how he can’t feel her pulse racing.She pretends she doesn’t see him exhale, tension seeping out of those lightly freckled shoulders. 

“Okay, I’m listening.”

Behind them, a loud yawn splits the air.

Fuck, Courtney. 

“Guys, do you mind if I just sleep here?I know you said you would Katya,” (she secretly enjoys how Courtney draws out the syllables of her name into Kat-yerrr), “but I don’t think I can move.”She punctuates the statement with another yawn, and there’s the sound of throw pillows landing on the floor.

In the kitchen, he looks at her with a question in his eyes.  She nods slowly, and he squeezes her fingers again.

“Sure,” Trixie calls back in a normal tone of voice, still holding her hand, “Katya and I can share.”

Maybe there is a deity somewhere that is willing to bless Katya, despite all of her sordid ways.


	5. Care for a fucking?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events surrounding that now-infamous line about making out. Featuring oblivious!Katya and Courtney sleeping less than five feet away.

Katya rushes through her nighttime routine, a feeling like a fist pounding on the inside of her chest.Trixie.She’s going to proposition Trixie. 

Since when does asking for sex make her nervous?

She stares at her reflection again, toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, and pauses.  Trixie hates her smoker breath.  And it’s going to be in her hair too.  She sniffs her armpits and wrinkles her nose.  Does she have time for a shower?

Spitting into the sink, Katya waits for the pipes to squeak to life and provide at least lukewarm water.  She brushes her teeth again, trying to reach every crevice between them. (Trixie always gives her hell for having perfect, straight white teeth despite her unsavory habits.)

She’s in the middle of scrubbing under her arms with vigor when a thought occurs.  What if Trixie wants her to bottom?  It’s been weeks, months since the last time.  Should she prep now?  Does she even have-

Something heavy hits the door, and Katya almost loses her balance before she realizes that it’s just a loud knock.  The soap slips out of her hand, landing heavily on her foot.  Fuck.

The knocking continues.  “Hurry up!  Some of us need to pee out here, and I’m not using your kitchen sink!”  

Trixie.

She’s about to proposition her best friend, while standing in the shower wondering if she’s ready, while said best friend is trying to get in the bathroom.It really is too bad that she can’t recount the whole situation for UNHhhh, because she’s sure their viewers would appreciate the irony.

Also, there’s the half hard-on that Trixie can’t possibly miss if she puts her underwear on.Katya climbs out of the shower, calling, “be out in a minute!” in a surprisingly steady voice.She wraps a towel tightly around her waist, positioning the tucked in part (tuck, get it?) at the front to hide the telltale bulge.

Trixie barges past her, barely making eye contact before slamming the door shut.“I’m gonna shower.You better not have left cum on the walls!”

Katya wonders if Trixie knows.Fuck.

 

***THWOORP***THWOORP***THWOORP***

 

She’s lying in bed, towel discarded and a pair of loose shorts on.Her hair is still wet, but it’s not going to matter.Listening to the sounds of Trixie showering, her mind is still trying to come up with a good opening when the bathroom door opens and Trixie in her tiny shorts are suddenly there.She has a prime view of that round ass in profile as Trixie crosses the room.

The half hard-on is well on its way upwards, and her shorts are starting to feel damp.Shit.

Trixie climbs under the covers with a sigh, and her foot bumps Katya’s ankle.She doesn’t say sorry, maybe she thinks Katya is already asleep?

Nothing sounds right in her head.But she’s not going to miss the opportunity.She rolls onto her side, and closes the distance between them.

Trixie’s eyes pop open when Katya clears her throat.Should she tell her they should talk now?Or just grab her hand and pull it down- nope, that’s not going to work either.Fuck it.

“You know I’m not letting you go to sleep without making out.”That’ll work.  Start slow and build up.  (Trixie loves build up, waits months before fucking a new guy.)

Trixie’s mouth opens slightly, and her brow wrinkles in confusion before smoothing out.

“What, are you really horny now?”

Never one to lie, Katya nods.She expects another long-suffering refusal, after which they’ll talk and she’ll explain the whole line of thought-

A quiet laugh and that flicker of something crosses Trixie’s face again, gone before Katya can decide what it means.

“All right, fine, but no tongue.”

Well.That was unexpected.They can talk afterwards, right?

Sliding closer, until their noses are almost touching, shared breaths huffing across the pillowcase, she does what she’s best at: throwing herself into a situation without looking.

She leans forward, gently curving her hand around Trixie’s jaw and fingers coming to rest behind her ear.Trixie is waiting, and Katya knows she always stops and expects her to meet halfway. 

Every other kiss has been a lipstick-flavored show, all theatrically loud smacking and exaggerated moans.This kiss is close-mouthed, Katya willing herself not to climb on top and rub herself off between their stomachs.Trixie shifts a little, eyes fluttering closed, and Katya is completely _here_ as their lips come together again and again.

“Better?” Trixie’s voice is amused, playful, and Katya realizes that she’s waiting for the usual outrageous reply (“we can only solve this through intercourse!”).Instead, she leans back in and presses their mouths together with more force.Their noses bump, and suddenly Trixie is breaking the kiss, giggling into Katya’s neck.

The tiny gasps for breath and exhales against her skin are not helping.And she needs to have this conversation before her shorts are soaked through.

“Tracy, hey.” The giggling is subsiding, and Trixie slings her arm over Katya’s side.“We still need to tal-“

Trixie shifts closer, and her hip makes sudden contact with Katya’s erection, sticky and hot.

They both freeze, and when Trixie recovers, Katya can tell she’s about to make a joke, ask Katya if she reminds her of her dad or thought she was a rake.So she blurts out, “I really do care about you, and you know that, and I’m really hard right now and I’ve been thinking about your ass, and I’d really really like it if we had sex.Of course we’d have to be quiet so Courtney doesn’t hear, unless you like that, so maybe not full on fucking, but I’m completely okay with sucking you off...”

Trixie has both hands over her mouth, and for once, Katya doesn’t know what she’s thinking.

“Oh, wow.You’re serious.”

“Yes...?”Was that a good ‘oh wow’ or a bad one?Katya has all of the subtle differences in tone catalogued (and why does that suddenly seem weird?), but this one is new.

“Maybe if you were younger.”Trixie rolls onto her back and crosses her arms, and every instinct in Katya is screaming danger at the defensive posture.

“Hey, just because I’m thirty- wait, what kind of bullshit answer is that?”

Trixie uncrosses her arms to press both hands to her face again.This time, she’s covering her eyes.“Katya...”

They’re whispering too loudly, and Katya should be worried about waking Courtney up, but she needs to know.“I’ve seen you date older guys.”

“One time, and he was thirty two, and he tried to have a quickie on our second date.At Mickey’s, during Raven’s set-”

She’s well aware that Trixie is doing her best to change the subject, bring them back to familiar territory.It would be easy, to slide back into the routine of trying to find the most outrageous thing to say just to hear Trixie scream laugh.But she’s not sure when she’ll have the nerve to do this again.

Katya grabs for Trixie’s hands and tugs until they’re face to face again.She needs a yes (enthusiastic consent is important) or no.  Maybe Trix still thinks it’s another setup?

“I’d make it - we’d be so good together, mama.I’ll eat your ass as long as you want, whatever you want...” (Fuck, does that sound too desperate?)

“I know we’d be good together.We’d be the best.Which is why I can’t.”

Oh.Her relationship rule.Except she knows Trix has made exceptions, for Grindr trade, so wouldn’t this be better, someone she already knows and loves?

Katya presses her forehead against hers, holding her breath as Trixie’s voice becomes even quieter.

“Brian, I can’t.We can’t.” In the dim light from the clock radio, she watches him blink slowly. 

He’s using her boy name.Fuck.

“Why not?”

He takes a deep breath.“Because if we do, I won’t be able to walk away.I can’t do it just this once and then go back to how we always are.That’s not how I’m wired.It would mess things up for both of us.” 

Oh. 

(If he needs it more, she can accommodate him.With pleasure.Best friends with benefits.Surely he knows that it wouldn’t be a problem?)

“We could make it a regular thing?”Katya is aware she’s not quite begging, trying to understand.There’s something she’s missing.Something she’s been missing all night since her babbling about him being a man on the couch.

Beyond their nest of blankets, she can hear Courtney shift on the couch and begin snoring.

He raises their clasped hands between them, turning her palms until they’re resting on his chest.She can feel the thrum of his heart in staccato beats.Words are crowding her throat, but for once she holds back.Needs to hear him out, whatever it is. 

(Think with your brain and not your dick for once, Barbara)

The pieces click together.

“Because-“ Katya cuts him off with her hand over his mouth.

He’s exhales loudly through his nose, air rushing past her knuckles, eyes surprised and questioning.There’s no sound except soft snores and the muffled clatter of traffic outside.

Katya sits upright, throwing back the covers.  

“Courtney.  I know you’re awake.”


	6. Snatched!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tense moments with a dash of humor, and an appearance by none other than Bianca Del Rio.

Silence.Beside her, his mouth forms a perfect O-shape of surprise.

One heartbeat.  Two, three, a dozen in the sudden stillness.

She turns on the bedside light, and stares at the pile of blankets on the couch.  Without looking, her hand closes around the nearest portable object (a fan) and flings it with unerring accuracy towards what she judges to be Courtney’s ass.  Why can’t she ever be that coordinated on set?

“Owww!”  The throws explode outward as Courtney sits up, rubbing her hip.  “What was that for?”

“You weren’t sleeping.  How much of that did you just hear?”  Beside her, he hasn’t moved, curled on his side and gripping the sheets.  Trixie is still nowhere to be found.

“...almost nothing?”  

There’s a hitch in the breathing below her, and she turns.  Brian’s sitting up and his eyes are wide and panicked, as he pulls the sheet up around himself.  The look on his face is more naked than their bodies ever were, and she never wants to see it again.

Fuckity fuck to the demon pits of hell.Katya hasn’t wanted a drink so badly since the early days of sobriety.

“Nothing else.”Courtney Act is a talented performer, but she’s a terrible liar.“Definitely just talking.”

She stomps across the four feet between bed and couch and snatches Courtney’s phone.The screen is still lit, open to text messages.Courtney makes an aborted grab upwards, but the blankets tangle around her legs and she lands on the open suitcases.Pill bottles rattle.

“Really.”Katya can’t believe how calm her voice sounds as she drops back onto the edge of the bed.“Then why is there a text to ‘B-Adore’ that says ‘ _Trixya kai kai in progress, you cunts owe me $100?’_ “

Fuck it all.Today is not Katya’s day.

He’s reading over Katya’s shoulder now, and she can feel the hot line of his arm over back.

In her hand, Courtney’s phone buzzes with unread messages.

 **[12:25 AM] Bianca Del Roy-a-ho:** ...

 **[12:26 AM] Dorey Noriega** : WTF, why couldn’t they have waited until next month?

 **[12:26 AM] Bianca Del Roy-a-ho** : Bitch, you woke me up for THIS?????????? 

**[12:26 AM] Dorey Noriega** : Old people go to bed early :P  htjjjjjjjjjjnn llmnnjbnnbbh

 **[12:27 AM] Bianca Del Roy-a-ho** : Pizza party just lost her phone privileges.

 **[12:28 AM] Bianca Del Roy-a-ho** : Hello?HELLO???

“You bet on - what -“ That’s definitely Trixie.  Katya recognizes the professionally offended tone of voice she uses on stage when someone interrupts her and winces. 

Courtney is still on the floor, cringing with every notification.“I can explain?”

The phone starts ringing.

Abruptly, Trixie is crawling across the mattress, past Katya before she can even reach for her.She disappears into the bathroom and the door slams shut.

Katya swipes her thumb across Bianca’s grinning face and brings the phone to her ear.

“Bonnie Del Rico.”There’s a pause on the other end, but Bianca recovers swiftly.

“Katya.  Since you’re answering, this is either some elaborate joke you’re all in on,” a slapping noise echoes down the line followed by a muffled but distinctly Adore-sounding complaint.  “-or,” Bianca continues, “you really are Russian and we’ll never find the body.  Then I don’t have to worry about her putting more fingerprints on my crown.”

Bianca’s sharp voice eases a knot of tension between her shoulder blades.She knows the other queen is a consummate professional behind the thorny exterior, and hopes she’ll understand. 

Courtney is sitting on the couch now, chewing her lip.Katya thinks she deserves to be nervous.

“Bonnie Del Rico, is there something going on on your end with a certain Ms. Delano?”Katya has to pull the phone away from her ear as Bianca’s scratchy laugh breaks up into static.

“None of your business, and no.”The last part is said in a quieter tone, and she can hear the rustling of sheets as if Bianca is settling back into bed.

She needs to go after Trixie, because it’s been suspiciously quiet in the bathroom.“Nothing here either,” she sighs.

“Queen, let me give you some advice?”  Bianca’s voice is the gentlest she’s ever heard.

“Sure.”

“You decide if it’s worth it, and if you two can live with whatever the answer is.”

Adore’s voice murmurs indistinctly in the background, and Katya knows there’s more that Bianca isn’t saying.(That’s a fish to fry another day, or an egg to put in the basket, or some other metaphor that her tired brain isn’t spewing out.)

“We didn’t hear anything, and I’ll make sure Courtney doesn’t make trouble.Now give her the phone back and figure this shit out.”

The tightness in her chest loosens, just a little.“Goodnight, Bianca.You always were my favorite clown.”

“Fuck off, whore.”Her tone is strangely affectionate, almost kind.“Let me talk to Courtney?”Katya tosses the phone over, and exhales a painful sigh. 

Figure this shit out.Trixie. 

Behind her, Courtney’s voice is indignant, “-and I still don’t know how she knew I was awake.”

Katya reaches for the doorknob, praying to something that it’s not locked.

“You don’t snore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure what Adore is doing in (presumably) Bianca’s bed either, but it probably isn’t what it sounds like. That’s an entire *other* story.
> 
> Edit 1/22/19: Bianca’s perspective has finally been written! Find it at https://archiveofourown.org/works/17495690/chapters/41231318


	7. See me with them hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie and Katya, in a bathtub. Or, how the two of them managed to resolve the sex thing.

Katya shuts the door behind her, a sense of dejavu washing over her.She expects her to be waiting on the other side, in full Trixie Mattel plastic fury.

Instead, she finds him sitting in the tub, arms wrapped around his knees tucked up to his chest.The tub ledge is too narrow, so Katya folds herself into the tub across from him.

“Hey, mama.”  

He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, chin resting on one knee.  She can't tell if he's sad, frustrated, angry, or all of the above.

“Tr...Brian.Can I touch you?”She knows he’ll understand what she means, even with their feet pressed together, shins touching.With her flexibility, she could pull back, but wants to offer the physical comfort and she isn’t sure if he’ll accept a hug right now. 

(It’s like they have their own bubble of shared personal space.She’s never thought about it before.  Trixie doesn't enjoy physical contact the way Katya does, but never hesitates to sit so close there's barely a breath between them.  It has to mean something, but what?)

A silent nod.She can see his knuckles are white from gripping his own wrists, and she winces.There’s going to be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow.Katya lightly brushes her fingers over the angry marks and takes his hands, can feel the tension in his body like a strung bow. 

“Hey.I took care of Courtney.She won’t say anything.”

“Where’d you hide the body?” His voice is small, but the attempt at humor makes her smile.

“Bianca said she’d take care of things.  She scares the hell out of me, but I trust her."

He's biting his lower lip, and she really does want to kiss it.  "Bianca Del Rio.  I would have thought she'd read us to filth for waking her up."  Katya sees him trying to change the subject again, and she has to reel in the part of her brain that wants to share what she heard on the phone, wants to try and untangle the inexplicable relationship between Bianca and Adore.  

"Talk to me, mama. It’s just you, me, and that bra hanging from the door in here.” A half-giggle, which means she’s making progress.

“Do I have to say it?” 

She’s still so confused.“Say what?Wait, are we back at the part where I offered to - You know my body is a library, and you can check it out anytime.  Actually, that's not right.  Oh,” she pauses as a thought percolates through,“are you not interested?" That would suck, but she could live with it.

He starts to stand up, turning away and pulling his hands free.She waits three minutes, counting the seconds off silently, listening to his shallow breaths, before standing up too.There’s no rejection when she gently sets her hands on his shoulders, taking the half step closer until she’s wrapped him in an embrace from behind. 

(The wet shorts are sticking to her thighs, but at least the hard-on seems to have subsided.)

“You can’t come for my gig, Tracy,” she leans up to rest her chin on his shoulder, “I’m supposed to be the one having breakdowns.Tell me what it is.”  She waits, swaying gently back and forth, until he unconsciously matches his breathing with hers.

They can’t go outside without having to pass Courtney, who is still on the phone, from the murmur of sound that comes under the bathroom door.They certainly can’t go back to bed either, until she has him talking again.

Slowly, she guides them back down in the tub until he’s sitting between her knees facing away and her back is pressed to the cold tile.  Maybe whatever it is will be easier to say if he doesn't have to make eye contact?

“Trix.Bri, you’re scaring me.”He starts to say something, stops, starts and stops again, and right now Katya is scared.Scared about what he’ll say, and scared that whatever it is she won’t be able to fix it.Filled with fear that she’s somehow at fault, yet again.  It's supposed to be Trixie who pulls her back to reality, keeps her from being consumed by the whirlwind of her own psyche.  

Another two minutes.  Katya's hands are restless, so she sets them to work passing back and forth over his tense shoulders.  She can feel when he finally inhales to speak.

“I can’t have sex with you, because it’s probably good and that’s going to mess things up.” 

What?  Her hands involuntarily tighten and he yelps.

"Sorry!  Sorry sorry..." Katya wraps her arms around him instead, relieved when he settles back against her.  She's not sure why, but she's in need of the physical contact tonight too.

"S'okay."

(Back to the plot, Katya.) “That’s...so you do want to?”

His laugh shakes her arms where they’re crossed over his chest.“Sometimes.  Sort of.  Yes.”

“So, you do want to fuck, but it being good is a bad thing?” 

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it?It’s not a big deal, I promise.And we can whenever you want, you know how much I want you.”(Something about him saying yes, that’s what it is.But what?)

“I can’t have sex with you because I might not be able to walk away.”

“You said that before.”She’s always talking about pounding her trade into the mattress, maybe that’s the problem? “I promise I’ll go easy.”  She's never had sex with someone she cared about as deeply as Trixie, but it doesn't seem like an insurmountable problem.

“That’s not-“ he turns around in the cramped confines of the tub, until he’s kneeling in front of her.“We can’t because if we do, what if I want more and you don’t?  What if I don't want more, and you do, and we argue and can't even see each other anymore.  You’re not a hot guy from an app, you’re you.We’re us.  We can't mess this," he waves his hand between them, and she can see traces of nail polish clinging to his right thumb, "up.  You know what it means if it doesn’t work out.”

Oh.Ohhhhhhh.It hits her like a runaway trailer of anvils, the answer that's been eluding her all night.

She has to make sure, words stringing together as she feels her way towards it. “It would have to be a relationship with me.Us, together, like Trixie-and-Katya and not Trixie and Katya?”

“Yeah.  Sometimes it feels like we're already in a relationship.”

“We could try.No-“ she needs to finish and isn’t going to be interrupted this time.“I’m not just saying this because I want to fuck you.Or you could fuck me, I’d let you.  Either way, or neither.”  (That is definitely _not_ helping.) She swears he hasn’t blinked since she started.“I’m shit at dating, but we already know everything about each other.You only have sex when you’re in a relationship, because you like feelings.  I like sex, and I like you...”

Thanks to YouTube, at least four hundred thousand people know that Katya doesn’t do relationships and feelings and sex.Not together.Fucking is physical release, never the same guy more than a couple of times.Feelings are reserved for the people she cares about - her family, Fena, Trixie...

A head shake.“I need someone who I know is there all of the time.  Someone who isn't part of this crazy drag world.” She can tell he doesn’t mean this as a criticism.Katya will never be one hundred percent stable, and that’s an immovable fact.

She turns the problem over in her head.Thinks about how still her mind is when he’s touching her.Thinks about giving up random trade, fucking the same person all of the time.Normally she wouldn’t even consider it, but this is Trixie, is Brian, and she does love him.Loves him like he’s closer than family, would do anything for him if he asked.Loves their unconventional relationship.

He’s watching her, and she knows he’s following her thought process because he knows her so well.

There’s a pained look in his eyes, and she can’t bear to be the cause of it.“I could try for you.It’s not just the fucking, you’re so important to me and I love you.Half of season seven thinks we’re doing it anyway.”

“Of course you’d try.You would try, for me, and think you could change who you are.It would work for a while, but you’d never really be happy. You’re Katya Zamolodchikova, and I can’t lose that.I need my best friend.We need each other like this, more than sex.” 

She can’t fault the logic in it.He’s still watching her, and she can feel him willing her to get it.Katya understands, but it really wasn’t anything she expected heading into tonight. 

She counts to one hundred.

“So...”

“Yeah.”His expression is somewhere between determined and resigned.

“We just go on?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m still attracted to you.I don’t think I can pretend I’m not.”

“I know.  And you're still too old.”A wry look, letting her know he doesn't mean it to sting.

She has to make sure he knows.“I do love you, Trixie Mattel and Brian Firkus.” 

“I love you, too.”

They meet in the middle of the ten inches or so between them.Trixie hugs are always good, always what Katya needs.“Are we ok?”

“Yeah.Yes.My very own Russian bisexual transvestite hooker.”He presses a final kiss to her lips, chaste but full of passion.She can see him pulling Trixie back around himself like a cloak, and part of her wishes she could do that with Katya, be just Brian sometimes. 

For him. 

They help each other out of the tub, and Katya pauses before opening the door.

“Did we just have a mature conversation about not fucking?”She can see the smile hovering on the edge of Trixie’s mouth.

“Bitch.No one is ever going to believe us.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally envisioned this story, there was less angst and a lot more humor. After re-writing, the bathtub definitely had to stay in. 
> 
> Confused about Trixie's feelings? So is Katya.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We conjoined our limbs in a hot tangle of friendship." -Katya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done! Let me know what you think, here or at https://doctor-bitchcraftt.tumblr.com

Courtney is actually asleep by the time they head back into the living room, breathing (and farting) quietly.

Katya waits as she straightens the covers, trying in vain to tuck the sheet around the mattress before giving in with a frustrated huff.Trixie drops onto the bed and looks at Katya expectantly.She climbs in gingerly, unsure with the new revelations how she can manage to keep space between them on her too-small bed.

She flicks the light off and closes her eyes.Sleep isn’t going to happen with how keyed up her mind is, but staying up is only going to worry Trixie.She rolls onto her side and hears an amused snort.Opening her eyes, Katya jumps.

Trixie is sharing the pillow, her face inches from Katya’s own, an affectionate smile on her lips.

“Oh, honeyyyyy.”She can’t decide if she should smack her, or laugh.

“Come here.” Trixie tugs on Katya’s arm until her head is resting on a bare shoulder.The skin beneath her cheek is warm, and she can feel a steady heartbeat.Their limbs tangle together, and she successfully ignores the damp patch on her underwear.

She can’t resist sliding her hand across his stomach and reaching for that luscious ass.(It’s a fucking masterpiece, no matter what.) Trixie breathes a giggle, and she only squeezes once. 

Are healthy levels of sexual tension a thing?  She supposes it's just another part of their convoluted relationship.  She also wonders if maybe Trixie sees feelings she doesn't even know she has.

Before Katya drifts off to sleep, she feels Trixie press a kiss to her forehead and she smiles.

They’ll be ok.


End file.
